Never Again
by Asirus
Summary: Lyna Mahariel thought she was ready to face the Sloth demon, but will she be able to resist its final tempting dream or will she linger in the Fade, unable to break free? Follow up to Antivan Nightmare
1. Da'len

_I decided to follow up "An Antivan Nightmare" with an expanded version of the end of the fade section of the Broken Circle quest. Was going to be another one-shot but around the point where the Sloth demon shows up I realized it was getting a little long and I was nowhere near done. Will probably end up being around 2 chapters, chapter 2 being about a quarter finished already._

_If anyone hasn't read my first story, Lyna is my current PC (my avatar image), she's romancing Zevran, they're trying to recruit the mages. _

_Again, please let me know if I missed any horrible grammatical errors or if I've accidentally substituted words that don't make sense. (Like just now I noticed I had "harms" where "arms" should be and that's not right.) Or basic spelling, if you spot something let me know. (My spell checker is being uppity and is flagging "ok" even if the "ok" is part of a word. Like "look". It's a little annoying. Hate to think what else it's doing that I am not noticing.)_

_Disclaimer: Bioware owns everything good, like Dragon Age and Wynne and Shale and Zevran. Etc._

* * *

Lyna stared at Niall, her violet eyes apprehensive. The mage nodded encouragingly from across the pedestal, his form flickering slightly as he struggled to remain, to help the brave elf who'd done the impossible. The two of them glanced down at the glassy surface of the oddly glowing pedestal, noting how every line was now shimmering slightly, each glyph seemingly stamped into the surface of the water. It was done... almost. Lyna had killed all five of the demons that had maintained the barrier around that central island. She had even located each of her companions, not that it seemed to do much good; Shale and Wynne had each disappeared, just like Zevran, mere moments after they recalled their mission and remembered where they were.

The elf bit her lip, her mind lingering on the assassin for a moment before she shook her head and banished her foolish longings from her mind. At least Shale and Wynne had been easier to deal with. A sharp slap, often the perfect cure for hysteria, brought the mage back to her senses and Shale... well, the golem just needed a stern talking to in order to un-freeze herself from her perfectly still Honnleath pose.

Lyna sighed, drawing the attention of the mage. "I suppose I should get on with it then..." She gazed at Niall, not liking how ghostly he was starting to look. She reached out to touch his arm, a concerned look in her eyes as she said, "Just hang on a little longer, ok? I'm going to get us out of here." Niall just smiled a little sadly at her and whispered, "Good luck... and I'm sure your friends are ok. You freed them, they will find their way back."

The rogue nodded, not daring to meet his eyes again. They both knew she was worried, no point in dwelling on it. Readying her bow, Lyna took a long steadying breath and plunged her free hand into the icy surface of the pedestal, long fingers curling around the outline of a rune representing that central island. She glanced up in time to see Niall's parting wave as she dematerialized, her soul shifting through the Beyond to face the Sloth demon in his lair.

* * *

Wynne rubbed her hand absently across her cheek, still feeling slightly amused at the actions of the strange elf with the purplish tattoos. She drifted though some strange, soft white area, feeling the presence of her guardian spirit around her as she floated. The mage's thoughts lingered briefly on how easily the demon had apparently duped her, locking her in a nightmare where the blood of innocent apprentices was on her hands. She still felt dreadfully melancholy when she thought about it, but the tiny Dalish had stopped her unbecoming hysterics before they got rolling with a well placed slap. Wynne chuckled, the sound echoing strangely in the pale white glow. She wondered how the elf was doing; Lyna had been, as soon as she knew Wynne was herself again, immediately forthcoming with a plethora of details regarding the current situation. The barriers, the five warding demons, the Sloth demon. Almost as if she knew Wynne had only a few moments before being whisked away. The mage had sensed a wrenching sadness in the girl, and had been about to ask if the young Warden was alright before she was sent to this warm, white... limbo, for lack of a better term. She suspected, though, that her time here was drawing to a close, that the diminutive elf had nearly opened the way to Sloth. Wynne smiled faintly as she felt the faint tingling, so similar to what she felt when she was sent here. She knew the time had come.

* * *

Shale was bored. She drifted though some sort of.. white.... oh ugh it was white and what if it was from the _pigeons_. Oh perish the thought. Let's just stop that thought right there. It's... something else. Something else that was white. Like.... cotton? Fabric that was white, yes that's just_ fine._

Now where had It gone now. The golem hoped it was almost time to squash the pesky demon's head. It had promised that heads would be squished, and while Shale normally didn't pay much attention to fleshy things, all full of horrible liquids, It seemed somewhat less useless then most. Obviously from some higher stock of genetic material. She decided she would ask It later, surely It would know why it was so obviously superior to all those other squishy bags of fluid. After all, It hadn't even needed a control rod this time to crack the paralysis that had gripped her. Oh. Is that tingling? Maybe it was time for the demon squishing. Wonderful.

* * *

It was peaceful here. Zevran didn't care. He didn't want to be here, he wanted to get out of this horrible white place, needed to make sure she was truly alright. She had looked so alarmed as he was pulled away, ripped out of her soft embrace, and then he was here. What if she wasn't ok? After what he'd... The assassin cut the thought off, his golden eyes searching the vast white glow for something, anything, that might indicate a way out. He clenched his jaw, his thoughts dwelling on the dainty elven archer and how she'd wormed her way into his... mind. Yes, certainly just his thoughts. And why shouldn't he think on her, what with those lovely lavender eyes, pale skin that shimmered under the moon when they held watch together; her ceaselessly curious questions about Antiva, how she blushed as the assassin sprinkled his stories with lascivious suggestions.

Damnit, he needed to get out of here, to apologize for turning her own blade, one he had even given her, against the smooth skin of her throat. And then she had asked him if he was alright. Of **course** he was alright, why wouldn't he be just_ fine?_ It's not as if he had laughed as she cried and begged him and Taliesin had cut her thr... No no **no**. Zevran closed his eyes, his hands moving up to rub his temples as if to physically banish the unwanted thoughts from his mind. What right did he have to think of Lyna, of how her lavender eyes darkened to a stormy blue-violet when he kissed her, how she shivered under his skilled hands in the quiet stillness of her tent. Of the soft sigh she made against his skin as she fell asleep in his arms...** No NO**. He had no right, not after what he'd done. Maker damn him to hell, he needed to get out of this blasted place, if only to make sure she was alright.

His golden eyes snapped open. He felt something, something _new_. Something like the sensation that brought him here. Was he finally getting out? Would he finally get to see if she was truly ok?

* * *

Lyna stumbled slightly as she materialized on the central island, her eyes immediately scanning the area, looking for the demon. She was surprised when she spotted it instantly, maybe a hundred feet away. It was just sitting there, apparently daydreaming and staring up into the smoky brown-grey nothing that passed for a sky here in this part of the Beyond. She stepped cautiously towards it, her longbow held before her half-drawn with an arrow at the ready. _This was it_, the final challenge. The elf hoped she was up to the task. Her heart yearned for her companions, and hoped killing this Sloth creature would allow them all to get out of here. She suspected that Niall didn't have much time left... though if she really thought about it - which she refused to do - she would be forced to admit that it was already far too late for the sadly brave mage who had helped her decipher pedestal.

Shaking her head and gathering her focus, she raised her bow slightly, but froze when she heard a slow, chilling voice that seemed to cut right through her.

"Well well well, what do we have we here..." The Sloth demon turned its head slightly, its skinless face partially covered by the strange blood-red hood it wore. It continued to speak, it's exposed teeth gleaming dully in the misty yellow light as it mocked her.

"A rebellious minion? An escaped slave?" It laughed, the sound draining the color from Lyna's face as the tip of her readied arrow dropped slightly. The demons eyes glowed red through the narrow slits in the hood as it stared at her.

"My my, but you do have some gall. But playtime is over. You all have to go back now." Lyna blinked at that, and suddenly she felt them. She could sense her friends, _they were there_, right behind her, she could feel it with every fiber of her being. She risked a glance over her shoulder, her violet gaze flickering briefly over the solid presence of Shale and the comforting warmth of Wynne before she focused on the Antivan. _He was ok_. He was still alive, and they were all ok and maybe this demon wasn't so terrible after all, with them beside her. Zevran was looking at her and if she didn't know better - which she did but a girl is allowed to dream once in awhile, especially when she is **in** the Beyond - she'd say that was almost a loving look in his golden eyes. _Good thing she knew better_. She flashed her friends a quick smile, her gaze lingering ever so briefly on the elf before she turned back to Sloth. The ice water that had apparently flooded her veins when the demon spoke warmed quickly, replaced by a fierce need to save him... _them._ Save **them**.

Narrowing her violet eyes and ignoring her briefly roiling emotions, she stared at the demon, daring it to even flinch in the wrong direction. It almost seemed to smirk. Lyna winced slightly as it's voice cut through her again. "If you go back quietly, I'll do better this time." The things voice was silky smooth, seeming to promise happiness and love and home with every chilling syllable.

Shale spoke up, "Is it time to squish the demons head yet? It said we would, and I certainly hope It would not lie about something like that."

The demon glanced at the golem before refocusing on Lyna, sensing that she was the driving force behind their resistance. The elf swayed slightly, suddenly feeling it's creeping presence in her mind, shuddering as it searched her memories for something it could use. Advancing swiftly, Wynne stood just behind the faltering rogue and addressed the demon in a strident voice. "You cannot hold us demon. We found each other in this place and you_ cannot_ stand against us!"

But the demon had found a hook. It stood and faced them as it said in a slow, almost languid tone, "I'll make you much... happier." It fastened it's glowing eyes on the archer, and suddenly twisted the fade around them. They found themselves in a sunny forest glade, the demon a vague outline still some sixty feet away. Lyna shuddered slightly and immediately began to trudge away from her three alarmed companions, longbow held limply at her side. They heard musical laughter not far away, and they quickly moved to follow the tiny elf. Suddenly, Lyna paused, slung her longbow over her shoulder, and resumed walking, only now with her normal grace, so common to the Dalish elves in their sun-dappled woodland home.

Wynne and Shale shared a concerned look, - an unusual enough event for the golem, Wynne noted silently - and the mage glanced over to where the Sloth demon was still barely visible and again seated.

Zevran's golden eyes were fixed on Lyna, not daring to let her out of his sight. He picked up speed, hoping to keep the delicate archer out of trouble in this alarmingly complete dreamland apparently centered on his Lyna, to keep her here. Wait, not _his_ Lyna. Where had that thought come from? _No matter_, he could figure it out later. Right now she needed his help.

In less then a minute, Lyna had led the companions to what looked like the outskirts of a Dalish camp. Wynne and Zevran managed to catch up to the graceful elf as she came to a stop next to a large oak, Shale hanging back slightly, nobody liking the vaguely glassy look in the girl's eyes. The assassin and mage looked around quietly, both understanding that they would need to get a handle on things before they could bring the Dalish out of this dream.

"Mamae!" They heard the excited exclamation before they saw the cause. Lyna suddenly smiled a brilliant, rarely seen smile and spun around, scooping up an elfling no more then three years old. The child had pale gold hair, braided and bedecked haphazardly with wildflowers, and large violet eyes. Lyna nuzzled the girls face, her ebony hair spilling silkily over her shoulder as the elfling shrieked in childish glee. "Mamae! Uncle Tamlen was teaching me about Vir Tanadahl! And then I told Hahren when he was telling stories, but then Uncle got in trouble because Keeper told him I was too little. I'm not too little am I?"

Lyna laughed merrily, seemingly oblivious to the human and elf standing a few feet away, the girl-child still in her arms. "Yes da'len, you know you're not supposed to show off in front of the other children. Just because your Uncle is a bad bad man who teaches you the way two years early, does not mean you should go telling everyone." She spun the girl up into the air and was rewarded with another shriek of laughter before the girl was caught and put back on her feet. A tall blond elf with markings reminicient of a bow and arrow came around a tree and said, "Ahh, there you are lethalline. Has Nerana been telling tall tales again?" The man ruffled the girls hair and laughed, "She's a troublemaker you know. Always trying to get me in some sort of trouble with the Keeper."

"You know it's your own fault, teaching her about Vir Tanadahl already. Not that she wouldn't cause trouble anyway..." Lyna looked down at the elfing with a warm, glowing sort of expression. The girl grined impishly up at Lyna then darted away after some other children, laughing joyfully. Unnoticed by either of the elves, Zevran was unable to suppress a shudder. Wynne made a note of his reaction, but did not say anything, still not quite sure how to pull their leader out of her dream.

"I swear, she takes after her father. And where is he, I might ask? At least when he's around he can keep YOU out of trouble, if not himself, Tamlen." Lyna watched the elf child run off before turning her attention to the tall elf at her side. His light blue eyes met her merry violet ones, an amused look on his face. "Well how should I know? I swear, every time I turn around either that girl of yours or your silly husband has vanished into the shadows. I don't know where you found him lethalline, but he's even more trouble then little Nerana!"

Lyna laughed and shruged, turning to walk further into the camp while saying, "Where do you think she gets it! Not from me surely... Ah well, I'm sure he's around somewhere." She paused when Tamlen did not follow, and turned to face him, her violet eyes curious. "Tamlen?"

Tamlen stared at Wynne, apparently ignoring Zevran's presence entirely. "Where'd you get the shem, Lyna?" Lyna blinked, her eyes vaguely confused. "Oh I... well she is..." The elf fumbles for words while staring at Wynne, also not seeing Zevran standing right there, staring at her with his jaw clenched. "I honestly don't remember, lethalline. Oh well, she'll have to introduce herself to the Keeper." Lyna narrows her eyes and steps up to the mage, her gaze hard. "Yes, shemlen? You go find the Keeper if you are going to be in our camp. Right away, yes? Do not cause trouble." With that, she turned and stalked away, pulling Tamlen with her, and disappearing into the midst of the camp.

* * *

_aha cliffhanger! I'm part way through the last bit though, shouldn't take too long to finish. We'll see if the muse keeps hanging out._


	2. The Trickster

_Ok here is part 2. Sorry for the delay. Oh, brief warning, there's a bit of saucy Zevran + PC kissy time__ near the middle/end__. Yes yes, just kissy time don't look at me like that you lechers. _

_Anyway, same deal. Let me know if grammar/spelling/word choice/whatever seems off for whatever reason. I don't have an editor so I have to do my own proofreading (heaven for-fend!) and I'm bound to miss things._

_Bioware owns everything, blah blah._

* * *

Wynne stared off after the departing elves, somewhat alarmed by how entrenched their normally indomitable leader was in this dreamland. She glanced at Zevran, but he was paying no attention to her at all. Shale, suddenly standing right behind them, said, "Well that was interesting. It didn't even see the Painted Elf. How peculiar. I will just wait over here shall I?" The mage flinched, visibly surprised at how silently the golem approached. Zevran did not respond, his eyes fixed on where Lyna vanished into the trees. "Zevran?" Wynne reached out and touched his arm, and he started as if she had struck him.

He whispered, "She seems so happy here... with a daughter..." The assassin shuddered, then turned to the mage, his mask firmly back in place, a faint smirk on his lips that did not reach his eyes. "Shall we find a way to wake her up from this shining little dream, my darling Wynne?"

She studied the elf for a moment, a faintly knowing smile gracing her lips despite their dire situation. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she said, "Yes. She may seem happy here, but she'll die, as will we all, if we cannot reach her." The Antivan nodded, his eyes flickering briefly before he asked, "You have a plan of some sort, I take it?"

Wynne smiled faintly, gazing in the direction the little rogue had run off in. "Indeed I do young man. In fact, _you_ are my plan." Smirking slightly at the surprised look Zevran gave her, Wynne raised her hand to forestall any objections, the mage continued. "Shale is right. Lyna did not see you. She saw me, though she did not recognize me. You however, she didn't even see. Why do you suppose that is?" She watched him as he frowned, his mouth opening a few times to speak, then closing quickly. "She didn't see you because the demon does not **want** her to. You've been.... written out of the story, so to speak. I exist in this dream as just another human." The wise mage motioned to Shale as she spoke, "Even Shale would likely be seen, should she stop standing around like statuary and give it a go, but you..."

Zevran stared at the mage, his golden eyes narrowed in thought. "I begin to see where you are going with this. I am a... a _plot hole_, so to speak." He smirked suddenly and said, "Darling Wynne, so full of wisdom and... _marvelous_ experience, I am sure."

Wynne rolled her eyes and swiped half-heartedly at the shameless elf, who just dodged with a faint chuckle. "Go find her then, you lech. I'll wait here with Shale, we'll keep the demon in sight."

* * *

Zevran did not like this place. Oh, it was pleasant enough, all glowing sunlight and trees with the smell of vibrant life on the gentle breeze, but he did not like it anyway. Not one bit. So this is what she dreamed of, was it? To have never left her clan, her poor dead friend not dead anymore with a little imp child to call her own. And a _husband_... The assassin frowned as he stalked through the camp, completely ignored by it's elven-appearing inhabitants. And why _shouldn't_ she have a husband. They had made no promises to each other, not that he'd ever offer such a thing... He clenched his jaw as he walked. It seemed Wynne was correct. He did not exist in this dreamland. _Bloody marvelous_. Her perfect dreamland and he didn't even exist. Zevran did not know why the thought burned at him so, his mouth turned down in a menacing scowl.

The elf paused by one of the trees. He had been scouring the camp for what felt like hours now - though it was probably much less then that, minutes maybe - and he still hadn't caught a glimpse of the wayward rogue. He realized he also hadn't seen that Tamlen fellow or the... the little girl. Or any children at all for that matter. _Aha_, she was probably where the children were. If only he knew more about the Dalish, maybe he could figure out where children were normally kept in a camp like this. Maker, why had he never asked about her heritage. Oh, sure he answered **her** questions readily enough, giving her endless stories filled with shameless flirtation; but he'd only ever asked once, and she'd given him the story of Tamlen and how she came to be a Grey Warden. And then he hadn't asked again. _Maker forsake him_, why was he dwelling on **THAT** of all things, now? He didn't care enough to ask, obviously. Why should he care? He would fulfill his oath and they would both go on their merry way. Zevran balled his fist and struck out at the unoffending tree, breaking the skin on his knuckles. He savored the sharp tang of pain, trying to use it to focus his wildly rambling thoughts in a more... useful direction. Right. The children.

Instead of just wandering aimlessly hoping to stumble across his Warden.. the Warden, not _his._.. the Assassin drifted silently through the camp, keeping his eyes closed and focusing on his sensitive ears, the elf easily avoided any collisions and was rewarded for his efforts. The joyful peal of laughter; children at play. It was faint, but he had bead on them now. Hopefully he was right and Lyna was there. If she wasn't... he cut the thought off. He'd deal with that if it came to it.

Stalking across the camp and around a few strange caravan wagon things - landships? - Zevran found his quarry. Sort of. He saw the children anyway, sitting in a clearing around an elderly elf with white braided hair. He appeared to be telling them a story. Ah, that would be the... hahren? Yes that was the word. And then he saw her. She was slightly away from the group, in the trees a little ways. _Lyna_. He felt his whole body tense as he stared at her. She was sitting back against a tree, her longbow settled on the ground by her feet, one leg curled under, the right leg bent at an angle with her arm draped across it. She was toying with something in that right hand, something he couldn't see from this distance. She was gazing at the children with a dreamy look on her face. Zevran finally tore his gaze away from the beautiful Warden and tossed a cursory glance at the children as he moved around them towards her. Yes, the little elfling that called her mamae was there, staring up at the storyteller with a rapt expression on her exquisite little face. The assassin flinched unconsciously, not wanting to picture his Lyna in a happy scene with the little imp and some doting elf he didn't know._ Damnit_, she wasn't **his** Lyna. She was just Lyna. He swore under his breath.

As he came around the circle and approached her, Zevran was nearly overcome by a feeling of peace. Almost as if his lovely Grey Warden was exuding an aura of contentment. His step faltered, he wondered if he'd have the strength to shatter this happy place, to tear her out of it and throw her back into war on a mission where they would most likely all die horribly. The Antivan remembered Wynne's words then. She would die anyway if he couldn't, or wouldn't, save her. Her heart may break, but she'd be alive. He clenched his jaw for a moment, then resumed his approach. She did not appear to see him, though he was clearly within her sight. He scowled again, as he stood over her, arms folded across his chest. Still didn't exist for her. _Goddamn wonderful_. Now what?

"It seems perhaps that bloody mage and I should have come up with..." He trailed off as she tilted her head sharply to the side as soon as he spoke, a faint smirk darting across her lips. She glanced down at the simple silvery braided band she had been playing with. Lyna shrugged and slid the ring onto a finger - the ring finger on her left hand, to be exact - and murmured, "Strange shem custom. Ah well, if it makes you happy, love." Zevran stiffened, looking around sharply for whoever she was speaking to with a furious scowl on his face. He saw nothing.

He dropped into a crouch by her side, still angry for no reason he could determine - not willingly determine anyway. Staring at her, the elf tried to decide what to try first. Baby steps maybe? It was a method he usually avoided, but it had worked wonders in his original seduction of the beauty in front of him. He reached out with one hand and trailed his fingers down her arm, pleased when she shivered at his touch, even if she didn't acknowledge his presence. Step one accomplished, time for step two. Using that same hand, he repeated his motion, only this time taking her hand in his. _Ahh progress!_ She threaded her fingers through his absently, her thumb tracing little patterns on his hand. Feeling perhaps he was on the right track, he decided to skip a few steps. Leaning forward he grasped her chin with his free hand and captured her mouth with his, shuddering slightly at the little sound she made as he swept his tongue against hers.

She tasted like honey and sunlight, smelled like wildflowers after the rain. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulled him close. Lyna released his hand and curled her fingers around one of the straps on his leather armor; she whimpered softly into his mouth as he wrapped his arms around her, one hand on her back, pulling her against him, the other brushing along her slender leg, exposed by the revealing cut of her Tevinter armor. Zevran felt himself shudder again at her uninhibited response, his heart beating somewhat frantically as she pulled at him. **No!** he thought. He didn't deserve her, but_ damnit_ she was so soft and what harm was it to just kiss her for a little longer. At least he very clearly existed in her dreamland for the moment. It was a step up.

The Antivan shifted closer to her, practically pulling her into his lap, her right leg draped over his left; he ran his hand roughly back up her smooth leg, breaking off the kiss as she threw her head back with a ragged gasp. His lips found her throat and he vaguely heard her gasp his name as his hand came to rest possessively on her upper thigh. Her fingers trailed through his hair, her thumb grazing the tip of his ear, causing him to shiver and swear in Antivan against her soft skin. Lyna giggled as he drew back slightly, attempting to catch his breath as he watched her, her head still tossed back and her eyes closed, lower lip held between her teeth. Well... it was nice to see he wasn't the only one out of breath. Maker _what was wrong with him._ He'd only meant to wake her up, not ravish her on this gods forsaken strip of dreamland. A strip of dreamland that he didn't bloody exist in until moments ago. Zevran felt that unfamiliar anger flare up in his chest again, but he forced it back down. Now was the time for getting her out of here, not analysis of dream states and why his chest hurt at the thought of not existing in her perfect world.

He cleared his throat, then murmured, "Ah, my dear Lyna..." He was about to say they should get out of there when her head came up, her eyes finding his. He was rather shocked to discover that while her eyes had turned that dark blue-violet color he adored, they still held that vague glassy look - not at all the eyes of a woman woken up from her demon induced daydream.

The dainty elf dropped her hand slowly, her fingers trailing along his neck to rest on his chest. Lips still rosy from his kisses, she whispered, "Zevran... I was..." And then she paused, her head tilting to one side as her eyes widened just slightly; he stared at her, one eyebrow raised, amused and surprised at the pink blush that came across her cheeks as her whole body shuddered briefly, the glazed look dropping from her violet eyes. "Oh gods..." One delicate hand flew up to touch her fingertips to her own lips, her eyes wide. What was that, the assassin wondered. Shock? No... embarrassment perhaps? That would explain the blush, certainly.

"Ah, but you blush so prettily my dear Warden. Unfortunately, time to go." Without waiting for a response, he stood in one fluid movement, his arms around her, pulling him up with her. He flipped her bow up with his foot and hooked it over her shoulder, his hand lingering briefly as he pushed her hair behind her delicately pointed ear. Maybe a little shock, he decided. She hadn't spoken yet, but she was definitely on the same page as him. She darted forward, her hand twined with his as she tried to pull him away from the area as quickly as possible.

Not fast enough, apparently. They both heard the cry, though it seemed to bypass the Warden's brain and operate her muscles directly and without consultation, for it caused her to stop abruptly as if rooted in place.

"Mamae! Where are you going?" The little elfling darted forward out of the group, all of whom were staring at the frozen rogue. The girl went to stand immediately before the shivering Lyna, her hands raised up into the air - as if she wanted to be picked up. Zevran watched as his Warden swayed slightly, her free hand lifting slightly towards the beautiful little girl. Zevran felt that anger again, this time directed at the demon. **No no NO NO!** He wasn't going to let it have her. He pulled sharply at her hand, which thankfully she hadn't let go of yet, causing her to stumble backwards into him. "Mamae!?" The assassin felt her shudder violently under his hands, but he would not release her. Being as gentle as possible, he slowly turned the woman to face him, not really surprised when she didn't look up at him. Curling a finger under her chin, he forced her to meet his eyes... and then the bottom fell out of his world.

Her eyes were filled with anguish. The lavender that, in passion, turned that stormy blue-violet had faded to a dull grey, barely a hint of their normal color showing. Unshed tears shimmered there, making her eyes glitter in the almost obscenely cheerful sunlight basking the area._ Damnit_. _Not again..._ He cupped her face in his hands, his golden eyes soft as he gazed down at her. "Mi amora... you cannot stay here, however much you may want to..."

She closed her eyes and swallowed thickly, nodding as she leaned her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she melted against him; inhaling the wildflower scent from her hair, Zevran closed his eyes and mentally cursed himself for letting her get too close. He knew he'd only hurt her in the end but Maker save him, he didn't know how much longer he could maintain his flimsy charade.

After a few hours, minutes, seconds, the elfling cried out again, "Mamae! Please don't go! _Don't leave me..._" The supposedly hardened Antivan assassin felt her shudder and grip him a little tighter for a moment before she pulled away; he almost didn't release her, but he knew they couldn't stand there in this imaginary glade forever. They stood there facing each other for a moment, not touching by no more then an inch apart, and he felt frozen as she had been. Her head was bowed and she seemed to be praying. To who, he did not know, but he was unprepared when she exploded into motion. He heard her whisper, "Cursed Fen'Harel..." before she pulled a dagger from his belt and whipped around with a wrenching cry. "You are not my da'len, foul demon!"

The child vanished as the dagger swept through her, leaving only a faint after image of large, imploring violet eyes. Half a second later, the other elves also disappeared, the woodlands with it's gentle breeze and dappled sunlight slowly dissolving like rice paper in the rain. Lyna shuddered and silently handed him back his dagger, refusing to look at him, her head low and shoulders bowed. He longed to take her in his arms, to offer the comfort he knew she needed, but he couldn't. Knew he shouldn't, and anyway, even **he **was aware that there was a time and a place for everything, and this yellow-toned barren stretch of fade was hardly appropriate for what he had in mind. The assassin raised his eyes from the broken archer in front of him and caught sight of Wynne and Shale, waving at him a short distance away.

Carefully slipping his carefree mask back on, he brushed the back of his knuckles along her arm and murmured, "One more bit of work, my dear, before we can rest." She nodded and silently wiped her eyes, her other hand white-knuckled on her longbow. Lyna pulled the weapon off her shoulder as she looked up towards the mage and golem and began to stride forward; Zevran thought she looked rather angry as she stepped gracefully forward, her shoulders thrown back. Quite an improvement from the aching sadness she'd exuded seconds ago. He wondered if his little elven archer was slipping on a mask of her own, but bit the thought back. _Later_. Now there was a demon to deal with.

* * *

As Lyna strode forward, Shale and Wynne falling into step a pace behind her, Zevran marveled at her poise. She was a broken wreck not seconds ago, and now she just looked as she always looked before a fight. Slightly flushed, but confidant and ready for battle. The Warden looked around, noting the position of her companions, and met his eyes briefly. _Ah_. Dull grey, not their usual brilliant lavender. Not a perfect mask, but quite good. He couldn't remember ever seeing her eyes that color. Not even when she told him about Tamlen as they sat together under the moonlight.

The four stalked towards the demon, spreading out slightly with Zevran moving around in a wide arch and Shale stepping forward to place herself slightly in front of the Warden and the elderly mage. As they approached, the demon spoke again, his words slow and chilling.

"I am so... very disappointed in you. My my you are so very sel..." Lyna cut it off as she snapped at it, "I'll hear no more of your lies, Dread Wolf. You dared use that...." Only Wynne and the demon seemed to notice her pale eyes flickered briefly to Zevran as he continued moving wide around the demon.

The demon laughed coldly and continued, "Why don't you just... rest. You've been through so very much, I'm sure you're very.. very sleepy."

The bow came up, the Dalish elf sighting down an arrow, her eyes a furious pale grey as she stared at it. "Silence Trickster." She drew her bow back ever so slightly, the wood creaking as she hissed at the Sloth demon. _It was almost a prayer_, Zevran thought from his position off to the side and slightly behind the demon. Albeit a prayer said by a very _very_ angry woman who had suddenly never looked more lovely to him.

"Fly straight and do not waver;  
Bend but never break;  
Together we are stronger then the one."

Inclining her head slightly to indicate her companions as she said that last line, Lyna released the arrow as she exhaled, "We are the last of the Elvhenan, and _never again_ shall we submit."

* * *

_Ok that's it. Hope you liked it. I'm tapped for now. I may continue with the Lyna/Zevran storyline later though, if the muse strikes me._


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